


The Valiance of the Glistening Eastern Sea

by Daylight



Series: Finding Caspian [1]
Category: Chronicles of Narnia (Movies), Chronicles of Narnia - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-17
Updated: 2020-02-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:21:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22763158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daylight/pseuds/Daylight
Summary: Lucy takes care of Caspian’s wounded hand and his wounded heart, or Caspian has to deal with the full force that is Lucy Pevensie. A missing scene from Prince Caspian.
Series: Finding Caspian [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1636582
Comments: 5
Kudos: 45





	The Valiance of the Glistening Eastern Sea

**Author's Note:**

> This is mostly movieverse with a sprinkling of bookverse mixed in.

If there was one thing Lucy missed most about being grown up, it was the length of her legs, or at least, that’s what she was missing most at the moment as she wandered around and around the maze-like tunnels of Aslan’s How in search of their resident prince.

When she finally got her hands on Caspian, she was going to strangle him.

You would think given how important he was to their campaign that someone would know where he was, but everyone she encountered claimed ignorance. How hard could it be to keep track of one little prince? It was as if he had vanished into thin air, which considering the land they currently occupied wasn’t entirely impossible. 

Lucy rounded another turn, skirts whipping around her too short legs, and almost collided with Doctor Cornelius. 

“Oh,” she exclaimed as she took a quick step back.

“My apologies, your majesty,” said the half-dwarf, giving a slight bow. “I should have taken greater care in looking where I was going.”

Lucy shook her head. “No, no. It’s my fault. I’m the one who wasn’t looking. I’m afraid I’m a bit preoccupied.”

Cornelius smiled down at her, eyes twinkling. “I can see that.”

Lucy smiled back. She had liked the professor the moment she met him. He had a kind smile and a light shone in his eyes, the light of hope. Something that had been sorely lacking among the other Narnians in the camp since the disastrous attack on Miraz’s castle.

“Is it something I might be able to help you with?” asked Cornelius.

Lucy doubted it but it was worth a try. “I don’t suppose you know where Caspian is?”

“As a matter of fact I do. He is sitting just outside.” Cornelius pointed down the tunnel in the direction from which he’d come. “I’ve only just left him.”

“At last!” Lucy took off running. “Thank you,” she belatedly called out behind her.

The tunnel she raced down soon began to brighten eventually coming to an end at an opening in the hillside. Lucy slowed down as she neared it, not wanting to go barrelling out right over the edge. When she reached the opening, she stopped completely, drinking in the view.

A flat green plain led to an endless forest backed by rolling hillsides under a clear blue sky. 

It was magnificent. It was beautiful, but more importantly, it was Narnia. Almost a week here and Lucy could still scarcely believe it.

She took a deep breath, savouring the fresh summer air, then let out a sigh.

Except this wasn’t her Narnia. This was a new Narnia, one she was still getting to know and one she wasn’t entirely sure about.

Recalling her purpose, she pulled her gaze from the view and glanced around.

Caspian wasn’t hard to find. He was only a short distance away sitting on one of the large, stone blocks that formed the mound that now covered the Stone Table. He was wearing only his white shirt and leather breaches without even his sword at his side as if momentarily shedding himself of the war they were fighting. His eyes gazed out on the view as Lucy’s had been, but she doubted that was what he was seeing.

“There you are,” she exclaimed and was more than a little pleased when Caspian started.

The prince’s head swung towards her. “Your... your majesty?”

“I’ll have you know I’ve been searching the entire How for you.” She placed her hands on her hips and hoped she looked suitably cross and intimidating though she had an annoying feeling she looked more like a peevish child.

The slight twitch of Caspian’s lips proved it was definitely the latter.

Lucy sighed. That was the problem. She was ten and she was twenty-five and even she had trouble remembering which at times. The memories of being an adult that had faded somewhat upon leaving Narnia had been growing steadily stronger ever since their return, but it was hard to be an adult when you didn’t look like one and no one expected you to act like one.

“My apologies, your majesty,” said Caspian, “if I had known...”

Lucy interrupted him with a dismissive wave. “It doesn’t matter. What matters is I’ve found you. Now, show me your hand.”

Caspian’s brow furrowed. “My hand?” Though confused, he obligingly offered her his right.

Lucy rolled her eyes. “The other one, the one with the big bandage on it.”

“Oh.” Caspian looked down at the crude bandage wrapped around his left hand as if he had completely forgotten his injury, which undoubtedly he had. “Why do you need to see it?”

“I wanted to make sure it’s been properly taken care of.” Lucy clambered over the stone block so she could reach his left side. “I would have taken care of it earlier but you vanished rather quickly after that debacle at the Stone Table.”

Grimacing, Caspian glanced away, a pained look in his eyes.

Alright so debacle was, Lucy had to admit, putting it mildly. The betrayal from within. The near resurrection of the White Witch. They had almost had a worse war on their hands than the one they were already facing, but Lucy had no intention of berating Caspian, at least, not about that. He seemed to be doing a good enough job of that himself.

“Everyone took off rather quickly actually,” she said as she settled down beside him. “They’re all busy being cross or sulking like you.”

“I’m not sulking,” Caspian protested sullenly.

Lucy gave him a pointed look.

“Alright,” he admitted, casting his eyes heavenward, “perhaps I am sulking, a bit.”

Lucy let out a snort.

Taking his left hand, she unwound the bandage.

The cut on his palm was longer and deeper than she had expected, bisecting his entire hand and encrusted with dried blood.

“How did this happen anyway?” She had caught a glimpse of the bloody palm earlier as he raced past her on his way out of the Stone Table room, but she hadn’t been there when it happened.

“The hag...” Caspian swallowed. “She used a knife. They needed the blood to...” He gazed down at his lap. “I should have stopped them, should have fought harder.” 

Lucy placed a comforting hand on his back.

He raised his head to look at her, his eyes bright and earnest. “For a moment, I was tempted, but I would never...” He trailed off.

“I know,” she said softly.

Returning her attention to his hand, Lucy examined the wound once more, brushing away some of the dried blood gently with her thumb.

Caspian winced.

“Sorry.” 

Apparently, she wasn’t being quite gentle enough, but then Susan was supposed to be the gentle one. 

Her eyes narrowed as she took a closer look at the cut. “You did clean this, right?”

“I... uh...” Caspian suddenly grew sheepish.

“Honestly,” said Lucy, shaking her head, “don’t the Telmarines teach proper wound care.”

Caspian bristled. “Of course, they do. Both my fighting instructors and my professor insisted on teaching me as much as possible about such things. I was just... distracted.”

“Well, try not to be next time unless you want to deal with a nasty case of gangrene.”

Her gaze travelled up his arm. A tear in Caspian’s shirt revealed another bandage wrapped around his bicep.

“Was that from the battle?” she asked.

“Yes,” said Caspian, the pained look returning to his face. “An arrow.”

She started yanking up his sleeve so she could get a better look at the wound.

Caspian tried to pull away. “What are you doing?”

“Trying to take care of your wounds as you can’t seem to be bothered. Now stay still.”

Caspian obeyed though reluctantly. “I was not aware you were trained in medicine, your majesty.”

Lucy gave him another look. “Are you forgetting how old I really am? I happen to have extensive training in battle field medicine, not to mention a lot of experience dealing with stubborn young men. And call me Lucy.”

The sleeve was fairly loose so Lucy was able to roll it all the way up his shoulder. 

“Hold this,” she said.

Caspian took ahold of the sleeve, keeping it up while she unwound the bandage. “Do you treat your brothers like this when they’re injured?” he asked.

“Oh, no,” said Lucy. “With my brothers there’s a lot more punching and name-calling involved.”

He raised his eyebrows, gazing at her as if he wasn’t sure if she were joking or not.

Once the bandage was gone, Lucy was able to get a good look at the arrow wound. It was dark and ugly, but fortunately, not too deep and there were no signs of infection. 

“You’re lucky you weren’t hit anywhere worse,” she observed.

“Lucky my aunt doesn’t have better aim, you mean,” said Caspian, bitterly.

Lucy’s eyes widened. “Your aunt? Your aunt did this?”

“Well, I was threatening to kill her husband at the time.”

Susan and Edmund had somehow left that bit out when they’d given her their brief run down of the battle. 

Lucy shook her head in disbelief. 

First Caspian’s uncle and now his aunt. 

There were several relatives of hers she wasn’t too fond of, but she couldn’t imagine any of them ever trying to kill her. 

“Maybe you should find some better relatives,” she said.

Caspian let out a brief chuckle, not much more than a light huff of air. “Maybe.”

Not knowing what else to say, Lucy focused on the wound once more. Though not serious, it would cause him pain any time he moved the arm and would need time to heal properly.

“Are you hurt anywhere else?” she asked.

“No,” said Caspian. “I’m fine.”

“You sure?” She yanked up his shirt to check.

“Hey!” Caspian forced the shirt back down, his cheeks tinged red.

Lucy giggled.

Caspian gazed warily at her. “I think I’m starting to understand why name-calling and punching is involved when you tend to your brothers.”

“It wouldn’t have to if people would just listen to me and take better care of themselves,” said Lucy, eyelashes fluttering as she put on her most innocent look. One of the few advantages of looking like a child was it made such things a lot easier to pull off.

Caspian, though, didn’t seem convinced by her act. “Right,” he said. “Well, if you are done your... ministrations, I really should be heading back inside.”

“Not quite,” said Lucy before he had the chance to flee.

Reaching for her belt, she removed the cordial from its pouch. 

“A drop of this should take care of everything. It won’t even matter if you remembered to clean your wounds or not.”

Sunlight glinted off the facets of the bottle’s diamond surface. 

Caspian stared at it as if mesmerized. 

“Your magic cordial? I’ve heard stories of its power, but...” He shook his head. “Shouldn’t you save it for those more gravely injured?”

“I use it when it’s most needed,” explained Lucy, “and what’s most needed right now is for you to be in top form for the upcoming battle.”

“But my injuries are nothing, mere scratches.”

“Even the tiniest of injuries can be your undoing in a fight. You know that as well as I do. We can’t risk it.” She placed a hand on his arm. “Caspian, if we lose you, we lose everything.”

The lines on his face tightening, Caspian looked away.

Lucy had seen that expression before. She’d seen it on Peter’s face, on all her siblings’ faces, and it had probably spent some time on her face too. It was the expression you wore when you recalled that what you were was more important than who you were and must come first. Having your life considered more important than those around you was not as pleasant as it sounded.

“Here,” she said, gently taking his hand once more.

With practiced ease, she screwed off the lid of the cordial and let a single golden drop fall onto Caspian’s palm. 

There was a brief shimmer of light, a tiny flicker of flame along the cut, then it was gone.

Lucy brushed the last of the dried blood away. Where there had once been a deep gash was now only a thin white line.

Flexing his fingers, Caspian stared wide-eyed at his hand. “That’s incredible.” He pulled back his sleeve and his eyes widened even further when he saw a small scar instead of an arrow wound. “Both are gone. They no longer even hurt.”

Lucy smiled. “One drop is all it takes.” 

There was such amazement on Caspian’s face. It was almost as if he had never seen magic before.

With a jolt, Lucy realized he probably hadn’t. It was both strange and sad to think of him growing up in this magical land without having experienced any of its wonder.

A sudden impulse hit her. She wasn’t sure whether it came from her ten-year-old self or her twenty-five-year-old self, but following the whim, she leaned forward and kissed Caspian’s palm where the wound had once been.

“There,” she said, “all better.”

Caspian gave her an odd look, eyes narrowed uncertainly.

It seemed to be her day for throwing him off guard.

“Honestly, Caspian, didn’t your mother ever kiss you better?” asked Lucy teasingly, head cocked to the side.

Caspian’s gaze fell to his lap. “My mother died when I was very young. I have little memory of her.”

Her old habit of putting her foot in it seemed to be reasserting itself. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright,” said Caspian. “It was a long time ago.”

The more sensible part of Lucy told her she should leave well enough alone, that she was entering dangerous territory, but her curiosity had been piqued. “Then who looked after you when you were little?”

A tiny smile graced Caspian’s lips. “My nurse.”

“And she never kissed you better?”

“No, she, uh...” He hesitated, a silent war seeming to play out on his face.

Patiently watching, Lucy waited for him to continue.

Caspian took a deep breath. “Whenever I was hurt or upset,” he continued, “she would tell me stories.”

Lucy’s eyes lit up. “Stories? What kind of stories?”

A brief hesitation once more before he finally confessed, “Stories about... you.”

“Me?” For a moment, Lucy was sure she had heard him wrong. “Sorry, did you say stories about me?”

Caspian nodded. “Stories about you and your brothers and sister, about Old Narnia, about dwarfs and centaurs and talking beasts, even about Aslan.”

“Oh.” Lucy grabbed a hold of his arm. “Oh...”

She had always loved fairy tales. Her mother used to read them to her at bedtime and even when she became queen of Narnia she had sought them out, diving into the depths of the library at Cair Paravel and bringing to court every storyteller she could find. To think that she had become a fairy tale herself, part of someone else’s bedtime story...

Lucy’s grin shone with pure delight.

“Did she tell you a lot of stories about me? What kind of stories? Could you tell me some of them? Please.”

Caspian looked slightly taken aback by the sudden barrage of questions. “I’m afraid I’m not much of a storyteller.”

“Please, Caspian,” Lucy begged.

Caspian’s brow furrowed in thought. “Well, there was the tale of you and Tumnus the faun, of your involvement in the battle of Ettinsmoor, the tale of the forgotten phoenix, the discovery of Crystal Lake, the dancing pendant of Archenland. You were my nurse’s favourite so you featured in quite a few of her stories.”

Lucy clasped her hands together. “Oh, I’d so love to meet her.”

A cloud seemed to pass over Caspian’s features.

Lucy’s heart sank. Apparently, she had managed to put her foot in it again. 

“Don’t tell me she’s dead too.”

Caspian’s gaze became lost in the horizon once more. “I do not know,” he said, voice suddenly rough. “My uncle sent her away when I was ten. I do not know where she went, or whether or not she’s still alive.”

“I’m so sorry,” Lucy said softly.

“It was my fault too.” Caspian absently traced the new scar on his hand. “I foolishly told my uncle about wanting to live back in the old days, in your time, the time of centaurs and talking beasts, and when he demanded to know where I’d heard such stories, I told him the truth. The next day she was gone. I didn’t even get the chance to say goodbye.”

Lucy was a kind-hearted soul. While she had become a decent hand with a blade during her time in Narnia, she usually abhorred violence, but if Miraz was before her now, she would have happily gutted him with her dagger. She wished Caspian had lived during her time, maybe then he could have grown up with people who actually cared about him.

Letting out a sigh, Caspian continued, “Miraz told me all those stories she told me were lies, mere fairy tales, and I’m ashamed to say I actually believed him. It wasn’t until recently when my professor explained things to me that I realized the truth.”

“But that’s not your fault,” insisted Lucy. “None of that’s your fault, Caspian. You were only a child. You had no way of knowing.”

Despite her words, Caspian’s shoulders remained slumped, his face contorted with anguish.

This time both her ten-year-old self and her twenty-five-year-old self were in accord as Lucy launched herself forward and wrapped her arms around him.

Caspian stiffened, every muscle tense and as solid as stone.

“It’s a hug, Caspian,” Lucy said when he remained that way. “You’re supposed to hug back.”

Slowly and somewhat awkwardly, Caspian placed his arms around her.

“Honestly, when was the last time anyone hugged you?” Lucy whispered into his chest.

Caspian didn’t reply and Lucy was glad he didn’t. She had a feeling she wouldn’t like the answer.

Hugging him even tighter, Lucy vowed to hug Caspian as many times as possible until he became used to such things again.

**Author's Note:**

> This is to be the first in a series of one-shots involving the Pevensies getting to know Caspian. Next one will feature Edmund.


End file.
